The Captain's Daughter (38 page)

If only they could find out just who she was. It was time to tell the truth, if she could find enough breath to do so. She opened her eyes with difficulty. To her relief it was Selwyn leaning over her.

‘You wanted to see me . . . You should be resting.’

‘Plenty of time to rest where I’m going. Listen while I’ve still got the breath. I have to see Celeste. I’m hanging on for her to come home. Why isn’t she here? Doesn’t she know?’

‘She’ll be coming soon,’ Selwyn reassured her, but May was impatient to continue.

‘You will look after Ella, won’t you?’

‘Of course, now rest. We want you to get better . . .
I
want you to get better.’ He reached out for her hand. ‘We need you.’

‘No, you don’t, you’ll all be fine. Promise me Ella will have a home with you.’

‘Of course, always. Now rest.’

‘Not till I see your sister. There are things that must be said.’

On the third day of Celeste’s visit, Harriet stood in the hall rubbing her hands and looking anxious. ‘Your father’s come back early, Roderick. He’s in the drawing room.’

‘Good,’ said Celeste defiantly ‘It’s about time we caught up with each other.’

Harriet moved to accompany her but Celeste paused to bar the way. ‘Thank you, but I’ll go alone. What we have to say to each other is not for anyone else to hear.’

Despite her bravado, Celeste felt the colour drain from her cheeks as she straightened her skirt and braced herself for the meeting.
I am not the timid mouse I once was.
She urged her fighting spirit to the fore.
I am his equal, and more.

‘So the prodigal returns,’ said Grover, standing by the fireplace with his hands in his waistcoat pockets, appraising her carefully.

‘Grover,’ Celeste said, ignoring the jibe, ‘I’m glad we can talk at last. You’ve done a good job with Roddy. The school and Harriet have made him into a gentleman.’

‘So you’ll be going back to Lichfield knowing he’s in the best place.’ Why did he always have to sneer about her hometown?

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Akron isn’t exactly the great metropolis of the world, is it?’

‘It’s one of the most prosperous places in Ohio. The world watches all the developments here: automobiles, aeroplanes, rubber technology. There are lots of opportunities for Roderick here.’

‘I’m not sure that’s what he wants. He’s got a wanderlust in his eyes,’ she argued. ‘I think he ought to travel.’ She was looking up at her husband, hoping for a glimmer of agreement, but he stood stiff, unyielding. He’d aged, she noticed. His hair was tinged with grey, his cheeks were florid, and there were the unmistakable beginnings of a paunch around his belt. Grover was looking middle-aged. He bristled as if reading her thoughts.

‘It’s none of your business now, what he does. I have plans for his future.’

‘I think Roddy might have plans of his own,’ she offered.

‘Stop calling him that baby name. His name is Roderick.’

‘He’ll always be Roddy to me.’

‘Suit yourself. You came, you’ve seen him, now go . . .’

But Celeste stood her ground, no longer afraid to check his moves. He was all bluff and bluster. She couldn’t believe she had ever thought him attractive in any way. What had she ever seen in him? ‘I think there’s another matter we need to discuss.’

‘Is there now? Whatever can that be?’ he mocked.

‘Our marriage has been over for years, isn’t it time we put it out of its misery? Divorce is not what I was taught to believe in, but why pretend we are anything other than strangers to each other now?’

‘Is this so you can marry your fancy sailor beau. Don’t bluff, Celestine. I know all about your Archie McAdam.’

‘Archie is just a friend, whereas you have a pretty girlfriend, so Roddy tells me.’

‘You keep Louella out of this. I can divorce you for desertion any time I wish, but I choose not to.’ He smiled coldly.

‘But Roddy is confused and we’re not setting him a good example. His loyalties are being torn.’

‘You should have thought of that all those years ago, when you deserted your home.’ He turned his back on her but she was not going to be thrown.

‘You know why I left. I sincerely hope you treat your friend better than you treated me,’ she snapped, and he spun round, his eyes raging.

‘She knows her place. Unlike you. If you want a divorce go ahead, see how far you get. Roddy knows what’s good for him too.’

‘I hope you’re right, for his sake. He’s the one decent thing to come from our marriage. He must be allowed to choose his own path in life.’

‘He couldn’t wait to leave your clutches; his letters were full of boredom,’ Grover sneered.

‘I’m not so sure about that. What kind of father drugs his own son and ships him out like a smuggled parcel?’

At least he had the decency to flinch at her accusation.

‘One that knows what’s best for a boy if he is to become a man,’ he replied, and Celeste knew from those cold words that what she feared had happened about Roddy’s abduction was true.

‘How can a young boy know his own mind? But he does now. I’d watch out if I were you, or one day he’ll give you a shock.’ Their voices had become raised in accusation and Celeste felt herself flaring up. ‘I only ever came back from England on the
Titanic
for Roddy’s sake. Sometimes I wished I’d drowned that night.’

‘Pity you didn’t. You’d have saved us all a lot of trouble. I think you’ve said enough. It’s time for you to go.’

‘I’ll go when I’m good and ready!’ she shouted. Being in the room with him made her feel sick with loathing yet strangely powerful.

‘We’ll see about that . . . By the way, there’s a cable here you might want to read, about your little lapdog friend.’ He threw the telegram across the room. It was already opened. She read the contents and stared up at him with utter contempt, knowing he’d withheld the news just for this moment. ‘You utter bastard!’

His mocking smile said it all. He watched the colour drain from her face as she reread the cable. She shook her head and stormed out of the room, slamming the door in fury.

‘Call me a cab!’ she yelled to Harriet, who was hovering by the door. ‘It’s time I went home.’

Later, with her suitcases packed, she stood on the platform waiting for the train for New York. The rain was lashing down.

Roddy had been shocked by the news of May’s sudden illness and the fact his father had known the news for days since the wire had arrived at his office. ‘I’ll write to Ella, I promise. I wish you weren’t going. What did Father say to upset you?’

‘Nothing that hasn’t been said before. But it’s time I went. I know you’ll do well, whatever you decide to do in life. I’m trusting you to do what is right and honourable when that time comes. Nothing will break the bond between us but I must go back. It sounds serious. May is like a sister to me. She and I may have come from different classes, but that experience on the lifeboat forged an unbreakable bond. I can’t explain it. Perhaps one day you will have a similar experience. It’s a special friendship like no other, forged in the fires of a terrible event. Sometimes I feel the
Titanic
will haunt me for the rest of my life, but it brought me May and for that I will always be grateful. She was there for my father and for me when he died and you . . . You do understand now why I have to get back for her?’

He nodded, realizing he’d never heard her speak of this special friendship before.

‘Just be true to yourself, young man,’ she continued. ‘Don’t stand for any nonsense. Your father is deeply unhappy. Please don’t judge every marriage by the one you’ve had to live with.’

As the train chugged into the station Celeste felt a panic that this parting might be for ever. ‘Keep in touch, won’t you? Come and visit us one day,’ she cried. ‘It’s so hard for me to leave you now.’ Tears blinded her and she struggled to see where to put out her hand.

‘It’s OK, Mom, we’ll be together one day. I’ll write, I promise, and I’ll think about all this stuff. You came; I always knew you would. You’re the only mom I’ve got or would ever want.’ He bent down and hugged her tight and she sobbed in a confusion of relief, agony and fear. ‘Take care, son, take care . . .’

‘Be seeing you,’ he called as she boarded, peering out of the carriage window for a last glimpse of her darling boy. He walked down the platform right to the end, keeping pace with the train until it pulled her away from him.

Celeste turned to face the front, swallowing hard. It was so hard to part so abruptly but what else could she do? Now all that lay ahead was the long journey back home. But at least it would give her time to ponder all that had happened with Grover, and those walks and talks with Roddy.

But what was waiting for her in Lichfield? She must get back this time. Surely history wouldn’t repeat itself? She never had a chance to say goodbye to her own mother. Please God she would be granted some precious moments with her friend.

Celeste went straight from the station to the hospital, praying that May was on the mend and sitting up in bed, chiding her for taking so long to return. She’d made plans on the ship to take her somewhere for a holiday –Wales perhaps, or even abroad if she could persuade her across the Channel.

The sight of her friend took the legs from under her and she almost fainted with shock. May was barely conscious, unable to breath without oxygen, shrunken and so ill, Celeste hardly recognized her. But those grey marble eyes were still aware as she turned to her.

‘I’m here, May. I’m back and not going anywhere until you get better.’

May pushed away the mask to rasp, ‘About time. I’ve been hanging on for you. I thought you’d not make it.’ There was another gasp. ‘I have to tell you . . . only you.’

‘What is it, dear?’ Celeste could hardly catch her words now, the sob in her throat was choking her.

‘It’s about Ella and that night on the
Titanic.
You must tell her,’ she sighed. ‘She’s not mine. She never was.’

Oh, not that again, Celeste thought to herself. May was talking rot and she was suddenly so tired after her long voyage. ‘Shush, May, I was there, remember? I saw her with you.’ She leaned over to reassure her but May struggled away from her.

‘They gave me the wrong baby and I never told anyone. I’m sorry, but as God is my witness, it is the truth.’ May sank back exhausted by the effort of explaining.

‘Are you sure?’ Celeste felt numb. Was it true? Had May really taken someone else’s child that terrible night?

‘A mother knows her own bairn, especially one with blue eyes, not black . . .’

‘Who else knows this?’ Celeste whispered. ‘Oh, May, after all this time . . .’

‘I couldn’t let her go, not when Ellen was dead. Dear Celeste, I’m so sorry I’m leaving this to you. Be a friend to me in this, I beg of you,’ she whispered, her strength ebbing away, her eyes blurring, looking beyond the bed to something only she was seeing.

‘I’ll do my best,’ was all Celeste could manage, her mind reeling.

‘I had to tell someone.’ May sank back onto the pillow with a deep sigh. There was one long rasp of air and then silence. Her journey was over. And now Celeste knew with a sickening certainty that hers was about to begin.

She found Selwyn staring out of the window in the corridor. She shook her head. ‘She’s gone. I don’t understand. How can a simple scratch wreak such havoc on her body?’

‘It was blood poisoning in her system, so simple, so deadly. I saw it many times in the war. Poor May, she didn’t deserve that,’ Selwyn sighed. ‘My God, I shall miss her. We argued the toss over everything but she was one hell of a tough woman. She picked herself up from the floor and taught me a lesson or two. Shamed me, no end . . . Life is so bloody unfair!’

Celeste saw her brother was close to tears, struggling for control of his feelings.

‘I need a drink, a stiff one and I don’t care who sees me having it.’

‘The George?’

‘Wherever, just get me out of here. You think you know your friends and then they . . . Oh, Selwyn, we’ve got a problem on our hands, a big one.’

‘Steady on, old girl, just calm down. I know it’s a terrible shock but first we’d better find Ella. She’s with Hazel and her family. She needs to be told.’

‘Let her stay there a while longer. Besides, there’s something you should know first. Something no amount of time is going to change.’

‘The George it is, then?’

‘Let’s leave,’ she said, suddenly weary beyond reason.

Oh, May, you know how to choose your moment, burdening me with this terrible knowledge. How could you carry such a secret for all these years? What are we going to do with this awful news
?

She thought of Ella, safe with Hazel and her mother, unaware of what lay ahead. The poor girl. How could May keep such a thing from her? Celeste felt betrayed as if she’d never really known her friend. All those letters and kind acts . . . Now she was in charge of an orphaned girl from goodness knew where. How on earth would they find out who Ella really was after all these years?

Ella sat by the canal bank staring down at the dank water and trying not to feel sick. How could her mother just leave her like that? She had looked so peaceful in her coffin with a soft smile on her face as if she was glad to be away from them all. Now she was buried by the healing well in Netherstowe, leaving her utterly alone.

It had been a simple funeral at St Mary’s followed by a meal in a tearoom. Hazel and her family came, and Archie McAdam, and a few ladies from the college. Everyone was being kind to her but there was no one left for her now.

It wasn’t the same at Red House without Mum there in the kitchen. Ella was glad to escape to college, where no one kept asking how she was feeling. Keeping busy stopped her hands from shaking. Sometimes she felt like a limp rag but she forced herself to make notes, to read, to study, anything to blot out the pain of returning home to the cold empty house.

There was a bit of stone she was working on which she was sure had a figure within it bursting to come out, but she couldn’t bring it to the surface. Her tutor kept going on about art being an emotional response to the visual world. It was just words to her. Her emotions were all over the place and her hand kept slipping and spoiling her attempt to catch the spirit within the stone. More than once, she threw her tools across the room in frustration.